Pleasant Mistakes
by Tie-grr
Summary: Some time after leaving Kit behind in the tunnels, Olaf receives an unexpected visitor. Part two of a series. Transferred from AO3 - based on the Netflix show
1. Chapter 1

Heavy footsteps thudded up the once grand staircase as Count Olaf scurried to his mark on the small landing partway up. He took a moment to smooth down his suit jacket and check his hair before facing his audience – in this case his audience consisted entirely of members of his acting troupe. The great actor cleared his throat, raised a hand in a dramatic gesture, and abruptly shouted, 'Places! From the top!"

There was movement somewhere beneath him but Olaf was no longer paying attention. He had to get in character. With a dramatic sigh, he brought his hand to his forehead.

"Whatever is a man, as handsome as I, to do in such a dreadful situation?"

The hand against his forehead dropped to his chest and he inhaled for the big starting note. He waited for that big starting note. He waited for that big starting note.

With a snarl, he dropped character and reached for the nearest object. The old, cracked vase was roughly hurled at the target of his ire. He pulled a face when it went wide, shattering against the far wall instead of a skull.

"Boss, that barely missed me!" Two hooks were raised to protect a scarred face.

"_You _missed your cue."

"I-I'm sorry, Boss, but you were just so handsome." The hook-handed man stammered on a while longer but once again Olaf had tuned out of his surroundings, instead he was too busy preening at the compliment. Of course he was utterly distracting.

It took him only five seconds to snap out of it – surely a new personal best.

"Don't mess it up again. Or I will find a new pianoist. Pianioist." He could feel all eyes on him and snapped, "Just play the damn song!"

He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and found his character once more. "And a one, and a two.."

A loud knock at the door halted proceedings once again.

With an overly dramatic sigh, Olaf stomped his way down the stairs in a manner reminiscent of a grumpy five year-old that had not gotten the specific birthday present they had wanted. The visitor knocked again in the time it took him to reach the door and the disgruntled actor was seriously considering just installing some form of spiked pit system at his front door.

"All right, all right. I swear if you're a girl scout those cookies had better be-" All words left him in a heartbeat the moment he opened the door.

He stared at the visitor for a long time, almost as though he were questioning whether the sight before him was real, and began counting how many glasses of wine he had already drunk so far that day. A quick mental tally informed him that he was likely still sober and his voice returned, albeit only as a hoarse rasp, "Everybody out."

He waited only a beat before bellowing, "Out!"

The members of Count Olaf's acting troupe dropped whatever they had been holding and all but ran to the door, each uttering some form of apology or good-bye as they slid past the pair in the doorway. All except for the hook-handed man, who lingered at Olaf's shoulder.

"Hey, isn't that the Sni-"

An inhuman snarl erupted from Olaf's throat and he slammed his henchman bodily against the door, one deceptively strong hand wrapped around his throat. For a brief moment the other man struggled but knew better when he saw the fire in such icy blue eyes.

"You saw nobody here today, understood?"

"Ack, gah.." Olaf loosened his grip just a little. "Yes, Boss!"

Not as foolish as most assumed, the henchman hurried to put some distance between them the moment he was released, but he still managed a small wave and a smile for an old colleague. Olaf groaned and rolled his eyes. He seriously needed to stop waving at their enemies.

But was she really an enemy?

"You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Yeah, well you didn't have to come here and risk repercussions from You Know Who."

"I was careful."

He glanced around outside nonetheless before gesturing for her to come in. It was only then that it truly hit him and he stopped mid-step. Kit Snicket was in his home for the first time in over a decade. How different things were.

This manor had once been so full of life, love, and joy. Light had filtered through the foyer's many windows, illuminating the grand piano where Olaf had once played love songs for his fiancée. The couple had danced across the very spot where they now stood; young and in love, with their whole lives ahead of them.

Now the building was little more than a husk of the home it once was. There was no life or love anymore; almost every window had been boarded up against the brilliant sunshine. The dark, dingy shell was an accurate representation of the sole inhabitant.

Her presence in this space warmed his heart as much as it caused it to ache. He suddenly found himself greatly missing the picture of them which once sat upon the centre table, usually surrounded by fresh flowers his Mother would choose every week. He didn't quite remember what end the photograph had met but he regretted it.

"You've changed the place." Her voice was soft and sad. He nearly snorted. He'd not changed it, he'd neglected it.

Long fingers ran across old piano keys, too light to make a sound, but memories of tickling those ivories for her weighed heavy on his heart. He would sing for her almost every day and she was always an attentive listener, claimed she loved hearing his voice. Occasionally she could be coaxed into joining him and the two would lose themselves in song after song until they were exhausted. Those days had been so easy, and the best of his life.

"Why are you here, Kit? You hardly came just to comment on my choice of décor."

"I wanted to see you. Is that so wrong?" Whilst he prowled about the room like a caged animal, she had not moved from her spot one step inside the door.

"It's a mistake. We shouldn't see each other."

In the three months since he walked away from her in the tunnels, Olaf had done his best to forget her very existence. An impossible task, of course, but he really had tried his hardest. Now she was stood in his home claiming she wanted to see him. He desperately tried to ignore the way his pulse quickened.

"Sometimes, good things can come from mistakes."

He paused in his pacing to look at her. Her hands were clasped in front of her and her gaze was so serious he could almost feel the weight of it on his skin. He knew the truth behind her words all too well – memories of her lips on his, her body wrapped around him and her moans in his ear flashed through his mind. A mistake had led to one of the best nights of his life.

In a moment of weakness he whispered, "Nothing good can come from being around me," and the words spurred her to come closer.

"I don't want to argue with you. It was difficult enough deciding to come here in the first place, please don't make me regret it."

She was so close now that he only need lift a hand to touch her, and God knows he wanted to. But he had given in before and all it had brought was pain. No – that wasn't quite right. There had been such joy for a short while that his heart had almost exploded within his chest. She was worth all the pain in the world.

"We can't keep doing this, love." He pushed some hair from her face and brushed a thumb across her cheek. He couldn't ignore the way she leant into his touch.

"What if I want to?"

Olaf briefly considered that he might in fact be dreaming. Things like this didn't happen to him in his everyday life. He lived a miserable existence in a miserable house. There was no way that his True Love was actually in his arms again, right?

He was a selfish man and did things for himself, but when it came to Kit he found himself hesitating. "Are you sure?"

Her answer was a soft kiss that stole his breath. He couldn't remember the last time she had kissed him so sweetly and he made an effort to commit the feeling to memory.

"Who am I to deny a Lady?" He whispered against soft lips.


	2. Chapter 2

Taking him by the hand, Kit led Olaf up the stairs of his own home in silence. There was nothing that needed to be said. Both knew what they wanted – what they needed – and she already knew the way. The silence was comfortable, reminding him of times when they were younger and things far easier.

His bedroom was in better condition than most of the others rooms in the house; likely due to the fact he tended to fall asleep on the couch in the library rather than haul himself up the stairs to a bed. Perhaps 'sleep' was too kind a word. Most nights, Olaf would simply drink himself into a stupor and pass out.

Kit immediately crossed to the desk in the far corner. The surface was littered with loose sheets of paper, all of which were covered in his inelegant scribbles. Several were ideas for plays while others contained more sinister plots. There were even a few sketches and she picked up a drawing of an extravagant suit he had been considering for one of his parts.

Not a word was spoken, even as he walked up behind her and brushed her hair away from her neck. She leant against him when he began pressing feather light kisses to her soft skin. Strong arms slipped around her waist and clever fingers slipped beneath her clothing to brush over her stomach.

"Still a talented artist," She mused softly, "I still remember that dress you designed for me."

He did too. He also distinctly remembered removing it from her in this very room.

"You looked utterly breath-taking."

She smiled and one hand reached up to run through his hair. "You didn't look too bad yourself."

He straightened, pulling away from her petting touch and the soft skin of her neck to frown. He was pretty sure he looked damn good that night. She had even told him so. Stirred to move by his sudden rigidity at her back, Kit turned to face him and laughed.

"Oh, my darling Olaf," One of her hands rested upon his cheek. He turned into the touch and kissed her palm. "You were very handsome that night."

"You tease me, dearest."

Her hands pushed the jacket from his shoulders and he helped her to remove it entirely, tossing it to some unknown location behind him. His shirt was quickly pulled over his head to join it. Small hands roamed his lean torso, exploring a body they had once known so well.

"Yes, I do. But it is so much fun." One finger hooked beneath his waistband and she used that anchor to pull him closer.

Two could certainly play the teasing game and Olaf did so love to play.

Deciding that Kit was far too overdressed for this scenario, it was his turn to undress her. Her jacket and top were quickly dumped upon the messy table. Only her plain and practical bra now separated him from her breasts, and Olaf was not known for his patience. She laughed as he all but tore the fastenings free and threw aside the offending garment.

Her laughter died the moment his hands found both breasts.

They fit perfectly in his rough hands and the soft moans that came from those beautiful lips made his cock twitch eagerly. He ran his thumbs over her nipples, relishing in the new sounds that tumbled from her, but it was not enough. It was never enough. His hands dropped to her waist so he could steer her towards the bed, and she went with him willingly. At his urging, she lay back onto the bed and he busied himself with the task of undressing her completely. He needed her naked and he needed it now.

It was almost comical the way he tossed her boots away, one over each shoulder, and unceremoniously tugged her pants free from her legs. Within short moments she was naked before him, her legs comfortably parted to bare herself to him.

Olaf settled himself on the bed between her knees, gently pressing kisses up her inner thigh. She squirmed under his touch, no doubt anticipating what was to come, so he gently held her hips in place. His decision to hold her down had been a wise one for as soon as he licked her clit, her hips tried to buck up against him as she moaned her approval.

Her hands found an anchor in his hair and she tugged painfully hard when his tongue traced the length of her then dipped within, tasting her properly. His eloquent little vixen had been reduced to a string of moans and words that only partly sounded like his name. His tongue laved firmly and languorously over her clit as he pushed one finger inside of her. A second soon joined and he curled them inside of her, aiming to hit that sweet spot to drive her mad in no time at all. Her hips bucked with increased frequency and her moans were near constant. She was close.

With one last flick of his tongue, he pulled away entirely.

"Olaf!" Her cry dripped with frustration and she pushed herself up onto her elbows to glare at him. "Why? I was so-"

"I know." He grinned smugly, lips glistening ever so slightly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and flopped back onto the bed, running both hands through her hair. She took several steadying breaths allowing Olaf the time to finishing undressing. His lean body covered hers and his hot cock pressed against her warm skin as they kissed deeply.

"Revenge, my little vixen," He whispered against soft lips, "tastes so sweet."

She smacked him on the shoulder but her passionate kiss dulled the sting. It was all tongues and teeth now that she was at the end of her patience. Her neatly trimmed nails started to dig into his shoulder leaving little crescent marks in his flesh. He decided to waste no more time.

He rubbed himself along her folds, coating himself in her fluids before angling his hips and sinking slowly into her wet warmth. They both paused the moment he was buried fully inside of her, their eyes meeting. Neither took a breath, dared speak or even move. Years ago they had been in this position countless times, locked in each other's passionate embrace until they came calling the other's names. It felt right to be back here again.

All at once they began moving; he pulled his hips back and thrust at a steady pace while her nails scratched down his back. Together they raced towards that peak at a gallop, putting his poor old bed through its paces. Her legs wrapped around her waist and she arched up against him, begging him for more.

It took no time at all for Kit to find her orgasm. She shouted his name as her walls tightened around his thrusting cock, her entire body trembling beneath him. The sensation was overwhelming, the way her body throbbed around him; just a few more thrusts had him erupting inside of her, joining her in ecstasy.

It took a minute or two for the couple to calm their breathing and come down from their highs. Olaf rested his forehead against her shoulder while Kit slowly petted his hair. He had hurried away the last time they had done this, determined that he would not have to face his feelings any longer than was necessary. But now he embraced them and couldn't bear the thought of running.

"Stay the night?" He whispered - voice quiet and rather timid.

"If that is what you want."

"I have never wanted anything more in my life."

Olaf rolled off of her and paused to grab a light blanket. He laid it out over their sweat covered bodies and she immediately cuddled against his chest. Small fingers idly played with the light dusting of hair on his chest.

Words weren't needed anymore, though many raced through his head a mile a minute. There were so many things he wished that he could say but very few he ever would dream of uttering. They didn't have that kind of relationship anymore. He didn't know what would come of this arrangement of theirs, but he swore to himself that he would enjoy every moment she gave him. Eventually, he would muck it all up – that was all he knew how to do.

"Sleep well." He broke the silence.

"You too, O."


	3. Chapter 3

Morning came around all too quickly, the sunlight filtering in through the poorly hanging curtains over the grimy windows of the bedroom. A shard of light fell across the end of the bed, slowly warming the feet of the occupants as they poked out from the end of the sheets.

Olaf and Kit were sound asleep in the perfect picture of a big spoon cuddled up to his little spoon. Olaf's height advantage meant he could easily wrap himself around her as they slept, and it turned out that the Count was somewhat of a cuddler. He adored the touch of a loved one, but would never admit it aloud. Kit was curled comfortably against his chest, their joined hands resting on the bed before them.

At one point during the night, the pair had awoken to the chill nipping at their toes. They quickly slipped in beneath the covers but sleep was not the first thing on Kit's mind. His head had barely hit the pillow before her hand was wrapped around him, stroking firmly up and down his length. In no time at all, he was hard for her and she moved to straddle his hips.

Where their first time that night had been quick and hot, this time their lovemaking was just that – lovemaking. It was slow and languorous, her hands leaning on his chest as she rocked her hips back and forth. Words weren't needed.

Each held the other's gaze until the moment Olaf decided to sit up, shifting her angle atop him and causing her to moan. His arms slipped around her, restricting her movements but providing more of that intimacy they both desperately craved. His fingers tangled in her hair to pull her in for a kiss and she eagerly returned it.

Their shared release was almost lazy, but it left them both gasping and moaning each other's names. He rained soft kisses over her face and slowly coaxed her back down against the mattress. In minutes they had fallen asleep.

But Olaf was an early riser and before long the encroaching light had interrupted him from the best night's sleep he had had in years. Soft hair tickled his nose and he very nearly sneezed, but he caught himself just in time. If Kit woke now they would have to face the reality of their night together. He wanted to enjoy having her in his arms for just a little while longer.

When they were engaged, Kit had spent many nights in this bed with him. Her brothers had often been present when he visited the Snicket household, so spending more time at his own home had suited him just fine. After his parents' deaths, the thought of moving into the Master bedroom had never once entered his mind and, as a result, one could wind back the clock to those times and things would have looked almost the same.

Except things were not the same and never would be again.

Too many things had passed between them, each blaming the other for so much. And in most cases, the blame was deserved. All they had left were stolen moments where they could forget the years that had passed. Thinking of the past weighed heavy on Olaf's heart.

Suddenly, Kit began to stir in his arms and he was brought back into the present. A soft groan escaped her lips as she stretched out before ultimately settling back against him. He briefly considered pretending to be asleep but reasoned that the possible rewards to admitting he was awake were too great. He tightened his arm around her middle and kissed her wild hair.

"Mmm, morning," Her words were mumbled into the pillow, "You are very comfortable, you know."

"One of my lesser known talents."

She laughed and the pair lapsed into a comfortable silence. Olaf busied himself playing with her hands, idly playing with her fingers and placing her hand atop his to compare just how different the sizes were. Kit didn't seem to mind, she simply indulged him in his endless need to fidget and be doing something – anything. In the end, she was the one who broke the silence.

"You have a lot of books in here." The rest of her sentence went unsaid, but Olaf could hear the words as clearly as if she had voiced them. _For somebody who has no love for reading._

The truth of the matter was that he did indeed have no love for reading, but he had a deep love for a bookworm who had cultivated this little collection once upon a time, and perhaps he had not yet had the heart to move any of the books back to their rightful places. Her hand left his to reach for the top book of a pile on the bedside table and he knew immediately what she would find beneath the dusty, wine-stained cover.

"'_In that books which is, My memory,"_ He recited softly, "_On the first page, this is the chapter when, I first met you, appear the words, Here begins a new life_'."

Kit had shifted from his hold and was now sitting upright in the bed. The sheets had pooled in her lap but she cared little for the fact her breasts were revealed, she was too distracted by the book in her hands.

"I left this here. The night before, when-"

"Yes."

Olaf sat up in the bed beside her and clasped his hands nervously in front of him. Suddenly he felt like he had done something wrong, and not arson or attempted murder. When he saw the tears in her eyes he immediately felt even worse.

"These are all mine, aren't they?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper and she turned to meet his gaze. "I brought them all in here to read them to you."

He nodded silently. Gentle hands took the book from her and brushed the dust from the cover before opening it. He flicked through a couple of pages before presenting her with the poem he had recited – La Vita Nuova by Dante Alighieri. She had read it to him just the week before the Opera.

"They reminded me of you."

The tears in her eyes had now spilled over and he gently wiped a few from her cheek. Her fingers ran over the page almost reverently, even as her tears dripped onto the paper. She must have been truly upset because she didn't immediately dry the page.

"I-" Her voice failed her and she laughed weakly.

"I meant it when I said that I still love you, Kit. I couldn't remove every part of you from my life."

Olaf's bedroom had escaped the worst of his heartbroken rampages. So many things around the house had been destroyed; either by his own hand or with the help of a handy lighter. But the things that Kit had left behind had always troubled him. A large portion of his anger had been directed at her, but every time he found something of hers he would simply break down. In fact, their portrait in the main foyer was about the only thing of her that he had lost track of.

For the first few weeks after the Opera, whenever he did make it to his bed, he was surrounded by her scent on his sheets and the things she had left around. Her things had calmed his anger and often reduced him to fresh tears and heartache.

Kit pushed the book off her lap and instead pulled him close for a kiss. "You were right, this was a mistake. But I can't find it in me to regret any moment of it."

The rest of the couple's morning was spent enjoying each other for the third time. Spent and utterly exhausted, Olaf fell asleep soon after. When he awoke the sun was dipping below the horizon and the bed was empty beside him. All that left was a note sitting upon the pillow.

He had expected it, of course, but actually waking up alone caused a pang in his heart that he hadn't felt in a long time. He grabbed the letter and unfolded the page.

_O,_

_I am sure you won't mind me re-purposing one of your old script pages – it's not half bad, by the way. I am sorry to leave you in this way but it was easier than saying goodbye to your face. It is not goodbye forever, just for now._

_I love you too._

_K._

Olaf chuckled to himself and folded the letter back down, now noticing his own slanted scrawl across the back of the page. Goodbye for now. He could cope with that.


End file.
